When we got back to her apartment, she put her new shoes on and we sattogether on the couch. We were seriously making out and both really horny.I aske... to touch her shoes. She made a comment about my fetish -- not thefirst time I heard that from her -- but it was halfhearted, and as I heldher foot I saw the look of pleasure on her face. She was wearing a blacksweater with a color block print and a black skirt that went just past herknees. I moved one hand up her skirt and she became more. Once she was happy, she let her hand travel down my body to my breasts and started fondling them through the thin material of the baby-doll. Her touch transmitted through the silicon, and it felt fabulous. I wondered how it would feel if they were real. Hannah made little comments about how pretty I looked and how sexy I was as her hands roamed over my body. By now her ‘cock’ was wet with my saliva, and every now and then she would thrust her hips up a little, encouraging me to take it deeper. One of the women was obviously feeling sexy, you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure out that the way her hand was slowly moving up and down her body was suggesting that she was thinking of cocks, pussies and what they do when they come together. She was quite deliciously brown, all over, and if she lived in another time she would have been a great model for her compatriot Rubens. Her large and curvaceous body was very firm, and her breasts stood outwards proudly when she stood up, as. "I smiled at his unusual metaphor but then my brain took over."Carol knows, doesn't she, John?" Not about you tonight," he said. "She's asleep. So is her pussy. But she gave me the OK to try for you back when we first met you, when you were working on the Pinafore. She told me last night that she was surprised that I never tried very hard to get into your panties. I'm not even sure that she really has a headache tonight." Well," I said, "let's not look a gift horse in the mouth." My metaphor.